


Light Grasping Darkness

by Lotornomiko



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotornomiko/pseuds/Lotornomiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the murder of Rumplestiltskin, Cora and Regina are set to use the Dark One's power to win everything. What looks to be a massacre, may have an altogether different outcome, thanks in huge part to the sexual chemistry between a certain pirate and the Enchanted Realms' savior. Emma's about to find out which is stronger, the product of true love, or the Dark Ones power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Standard Disclaimer Time. I do not own Once Upon a Time or the characters from that show. I make no money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.  
\---Michelle 

 

There are moments, all too brief respites where everything stands frozen. It is a lie, for the quiet gives the illusion of luxuries they do not have. Chief among them is time, every moment stolen, every second bringing them closer to what may just be their deaths. But there is no time to grieve, no time to wage protest against an unfair fate. There is only now, the running and the plotting, readying themselves for a war they are ill equipped to fight under the best of circumstances. And that was before Gold had been killed. 

There's no time to mourn him, no time to do anything more than acknowledge the fallen. Gold stands to be the first in what will become a string of massacres, the worst nightmare of many coming true as Storybrooke falls under the power of not one, but TWO evil queens. 

Maybe, just maybe they would stand a chance if it had only been Cora and Regina to contend with. Maybe they could have won, somehow backed only by the power of the savior, a power she herself didn't understand, had barely begun to explore. But there had never been time, and Emma had never seen need to truly explore the potential within her, the magic that left her so frightened and disturbed. 

She regrets that now, a million if onlys running through her mind. Wondering if she had made the time, if she had put aside her duties as sheriff, if she had taken seriously Gold's attempts to tutor her. But no one can change the past. Not Emma as the savior, and not even Gold with all the power of the Dark One at his fingertips. 

All that power had done little good once Gold had lost control of the dagger. Enslaved by the one who controlled the blade, Gold had been rendered helpless, unable to do anything to ward off the death that had finally come calling. 

It wasn't just that they had lost a valuable ally in the war against evil. It was the power the evil queens had gained, the magic that was now theirs to command. A power they were all to quick to use, despite the fact that their tool was a staggered weapon. 

Emma tried not to shudder as she remembered the scream that had followed Gold's death. The scream unlike anything she had ever heard, the pain and shock of what was happening registered within it, leaving the Dark One confused, fighting against fate, against orders. That resistance to do as commanded, was the only reason why Emma and her family were still alive. Was the only reason why they were able to run long enough to scheme. Not that the Charmings had much in the way of ideas, not when the dagger was so essential to defeating that which was coming. 

It was hard not to give in to that hopeless feeling. To not wonder what chance they stood, with the power of the Dark One turned against them. Even as Emma fought against despairing, she acknowledged that she didn't know enough, didn't know how to use the power inside her. But just as she didn't know much about being the savior, Emma also didn't know enough to truly believe the Dark One was completely unstoppable, dagger aside. And she disliked immensely the pitying looks her father and mother both gave her when she had said so. 

But they were of the other world, had lived with the knowledge that there was no true way to destroy the Dark One. Even before the existence of the dagger had become known, the people who had lived in the Enchanted Kingdoms, had grown up believing in the Dark One's invincibility. They had learned first hand, the failures of those who had made attempts on the Dark One's life, had been terrorized and manipulated for years far longer than Gold had been alive. 

The Dark One already so terrifying, had become something else entirely under Rumplestiltskin's control. The man had twisted the legends, distorted truths until the name Rumplestiltskin was feared, and the monster he had become and it's dagger a faded memory. Most had forgotten that the Dark One had once been a slave, that whoever possessed the dagger had controlled the monster. But now the reminder was slamming into them, stark and potent in it's devastating truths. 

It was that reminder that was snuffing the hope out of David and Mary Margaret's eyes. That and the memories of the failed attempts to kill, to corner, to contain Rumplestiltskin and his power. They remembered the hardships, the sheer desperation that had led the Blue Fairy into finally discovering a way, albeit a temporary one. A way meant to hold him, to imprison him long enough so that a single generation of people would have peace of mind. 

There would be no repeating that way, even if the Blue Fairy had been capable of repeating that spell. In the realm of Storybrooke, even with magic brought into it, there simply wasn't enough of the Enchanted Kingdoms in this land. There wasn't enough of the ingredients needed to power the spell, no time to prepare, no location secured to act as a prison. There wasn't enough of anything, David and Mary Margaret knowing this, and thus choosing not to build their daughter's hopes up. 

They held back, but didn't stop their daughter from scheming. Desperate plan after desperate plan came flowing, none of them seeming plausible, none of them offering true hope of survival. But Emma wouldn't give up, not even when faced with the Dark One, watching as her gun's bullets slammed into his black leather clad chest. 

Was it the bullets or the pain of them that seemed to confuse him? He'd actually look down, stare at the small holes in his clothing, smoke curling upwards out of them. His hand would raise, finger fitting into one of the holes. No blood, the skin already healing, mending together as though the bullet had never torn it open. 

No further proof was needed that their weapons were useless. And yet Emma kept on firing. Watching the body jerk back with each shell's piercing, seeing the expression on the Dark One's face, a lost look of a despair all his own. She didn't truly understand the expression, or the reasons behind it. Why would he allow such pain to color his eyes? Pain that had nothing to do with the bullets, or Mary Margaret's arrows. Hadn't this been what he had wanted? Hadn't he pursued Gold over time and space, in an effort to bring about his end and claim his power? Hadn't he become exactly what he had always wanted? 

Emma didn't know she was jumping to conclusions. Didn't know, and truth be known, wouldn't have cared. She was blinded by what she saw as his betrayal, cursing herself a fool for ever giving him a moment's benefit of doubt. She should have known better, DID know better. Once burned, you never, ever give a person a second chance to hurt you. And yet for him, she had. For him she had pushed back the betrayals, choosing to ignore how he had left her and her friends, even her mother, to die in rotting dungeon, or of the time shortly after, where he had been set on killing her. 

Nothing personal he had claimed. And she had believed him! Was it her own guilt at work there? Was it the fact that Emma had not only abandoned him, but left him trapped at the top of a beanstalk, that led her to grudgingly bear him no ill will? Was it that same guilt that made her feel responsible, made Emma think if she had done one thing differently, none of this would have come to past? Or did she simply regret not killing him when she had had the chance? 

No way to know, no time to mull over the what ifs. She was out of bullets, and he was coming, his black leather riddled with smoking holes, but otherwise fine. More than fine, if one ignored the anguish of his expression. Always a handsome man, that beauty had become more pronounced, devastatingly dark and seductive, all the better to lure foolish maidens to their ruin. 

Emma wasn't foolish, but even she couldn't look at that dark beauty and not be affected. She rebelled against the want fisting inside her, total defiance spurring her to fling her gun at him. His arm raised, the gun bouncing off harmlessly. She barely registered the sound of steel being drawn, the borrowed sword in her grip as she took up a new stance, readying herself to die fighting. 

David was somewhere to the right of her, a sword that had slayed dragons, in his hand. Arrows came from the left of her, Mary Margaret rapidly depleting her stock of arrows. They were catching on fire, bursting into smoke instead of striking him, though the Dark One hadn't seemed intent on defending himself. 

With a challenging scream, Emma and her father rushed the Dark One at the same time. David's sword twirled in his grip, slashing downwards one moment, then attempting to belly thrust the next. Emma's blade met the metal of his hook, the Dark One effortlessly holding her back. She didn't fight his shove back, instead rebounding, spinning round to come at his head from a new angle. But the blow didn't connect, his hook there, stopping her blade, even as David mercilessly hacked away at his sides. He came away with nothing for his troubles, save to chip away bits of the leather of the Dark One's coat. 

Emma bit out a frustrated sound, lashing out with her legs. At best the target she chose would distract him, at worse leave him infuriated. Her knee connected, and for a second it seemed the breath blew out of the Dark One. Her father quick to seize the advantage, went for the Dark One's heart, intending to split it in half with his blade. 

And then David was airborne, a self preserving gesture of the Dark One sending Emma's father flying. He didn't fly far, the forest too crowded with trees, one of which he slammed into headfirst. Emma heard her mother scream out, Mary Margaret running towards where David had landed. He wasn't moving, the sword slamming tip first into the ground, inches away from his body. 

Emma didn't dare think that David might be dead. Didn't dare allow herself to fear she had lost a father she had barely begun to know. She just tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword, grim determination in her to somehow bring down this monster. 

The sword was caught mid blow, wrenched free of her hand by an unnatural force. She wouldn't let that deter her, striking him close fisted in the face and coming away with a hand that had gone numb from the contact. An arrow flew, just missing the Dark One's face, Emma hearing Mary Margaret scream at her to run. 

Even if she hadn't stubbornly rebelled against such a command, there was no chance to flee. The Dark One had grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up off the ground. Leaving Emma choking one instant, growling the next. More arrows flew past, Mary Margaret refusing to take her own advice, refusing to abandon her husband and daughter to this unstoppable monster. 

Emma felt her mother's frustration, kicking out with her legs, clawing at the arm of the hand that so effortlessly held her up off the ground. She didn't want to believe she was going to die like this, one hand digging her nails into his, the other held towards him in a warding gesture. 

"Hook..." She barely got out his name, her voice sounded like gravel in response to the grip crushing her throat. "Please..." Emma hated that she begged, but her options had run out. There was nothing left to do, but plead with a monster, hope there was enough of the man left inside him, to listen and show mercy. 

"Emma..." The Dark One had hesitated, his grip relaxing slightly. Sorrow colored his sea dark eyes, an expression so unsettling on he who had once been nothing but wickedly flirtatious. Emma saw then that he really didn't want to do this, that he was truly enslaved by the dagger. That he was fighting even now, the compulsions of his mistress' command. And yet it would do none of them any good, could only delay the inevitable. 

"Fight it." urged Emma, still speaking in the raspy tones forced on her by that bruising grip of his. 

"I want to." He admitted, and then his grip tightened again. "But I can't..." 

She tried to scream in frustration, but it came out a mere whimper. How did one fight, how did one hope to win against the Dark One's power? How did anyone do anything but lay down and die, when face with such unfair odds. 

"Help me." The Dark One gritted out through clenched teeth. Emma's eyes widened, shocked completely at the Dark One's plea. "Save me..." 

All seemed frozen, waiting for Emma's answer. But how could she save him, when Emma couldn't even save herself? The familiar frustrations bloomed within her, Emma wishing she understood the power she was supposed to have. Would it have been enough? Was there anyway for the product of true love to combat such an ancient, all powerful evil? 

Her vision was blurring, the grip on her throat slowly but surely suffocating her. Wetness pricked at her eyes, but Emma refused to give in to tears. Sound echoed from a distance, Mary Margaret's scream barely more than a whisper. She saw faces of her past float before her, Neal, her son Henry, that of her parents and friends. Even Gold appeared, a ghostly vision of the past reminding her that the power was within her, Emma merely had to focus to find it, to know what she needed to do. 

Difficult to focus when one was losing their tenacious grip on reality. Emma reached out, her hand making contact with the Dark One's chest. He felt warm, so full of life and vitality, in comparison to the cold that was streaking icy tendrils through her. Emma wanted that warmth, wanted to use it to stave off the cold. Her hand moved, an unconscious caress as she dipped inside his shirt to touch directly his skin. 

So focused was she on the warming feel of his skin, Emma almost missed the look that flashed in the Dark One's eyes. Almost didn't see Hook looking back at her, the pain and surprise being eaten away by something primal. It was sin of a most wicked kind that gazed at her, the ever flirtatious pirate longing for something she had never been prepared to give him. Emma would give it to him now, if it meant they stood a chance of surviving, if it meant it would buy Mary Margaret enough time to flee. 

With the breath being choked out of her, Emma directed her touch lower, her accidentally caress gaining purpose. The breath hissed out of the Dark One, Hook looking as though he was the one struggling to breathe now. His eyes were swallowed up in desire, when her hand slipped into his pants, Emma not bothering with being coy, or teasing, directly grasping hold of his cock, and giving it a purposeful squeeze. 

Hook reacted immediately, the grip on her throat loosening as his erection sprung to life. Emma had a second to be amazed, and even breathless and dazed, she didn't miss the cocksure smirk he gave her, Hook proud of himself and the formidable size of his erection. He had been right to boast, and a part of her was actually anticipating feeling that length of his thrusting inside her. 

Continuing to touch him, to stroke and grip the focal point of his arousal, Emma looked Hook right in the eyes, a smirk of her own inviting him to play. "What say we take this some place more private?" 

It was all she had to say, Hook's arm going around her waist, pulling her against him so that her breasts squished against his chest. Emma didn't allow a second of hesitation to affect her, knowing there was no room for doubts at this point in time. This was the right course, the only course, and though it might just be delaying the inevitable, it might just buy time. Time for her to figure out her powers, or time for Mary Margaret to find Ruby and Henry, and flee to where the Dark One's powers could not follow. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

To Be Continued....


	2. Two

Emma didn't think she'd ever get used to teleportation. Not the rocky, downright violent travel of portals that led to other worlds, and certainly not the far gentler but no less stomach rolling jolt of reality stripping away. The dark greens and browns of the forest smeared together, and when the blurring of realities had finally stopped, Emma found herself in a room that wasn't in any way familiar. 

She also wasn't alone, the Dark One---Hook, right up against her. His arm was around her waist, but she didn't mind that or the fact Hook kept on pressing them together. Not when Emma had her hand on his cock, her grip entirely one of sexual purpose, meant to soothe and arouse and most important of all, distract Hook from the murderous command he had been given. 

It was a command that would see Emma dead, see the ruin and destruction of everything she had ever cared for. She couldn't afford to forget that, but neither could Emma allow that knowledge to hinder her now. Emma couldn't allow for a single second of hesitation, needing to keep Hook lusting, and in her control for as long as possible. 

It was a delicate balance she would have to strike. A balance between letting herself go to desire, but not becoming so far gone as to forget herself in the process. This thing with Hook wasn't about scratching an itch, wasn't about love or lust, so much as survival. Hers or her family's, Emma unsure if she could guarantee a happy ending for all of them. 

That fact had despair wanting to well up inside her, but Emma stuffed down that unneeded emotion. She couldn't let sadness or anger fill her, couldn't let her thoughts prove so distracting that she hesitated long enough for Hook to recede, and the Dark One to take over. Emma would be deader than dead if that happened, for she doubted she'd be able to coax Hook out a second time. 

In a way it was like holding a tiger by it's tail, Emma safe so long as she didn't let go. Of course it wasn't his manhood that she needed to keep firm grip on, so much as the lust Emma so obviously caused within Hook. A lust that had been there from the moment they had first met, Emma seeing through his lies, but being the hard ass unwilling to trust the pirate as far as she could throw him. 

Sometimes she wondered if she had let herself be blinded, her defense mechanisms kicking up in response to the attraction between them. Hook had reminded her of Neal, a con artist with enough charm and personality to worm his way into an unprepared heart. Hook's flirtatious ways had set alarm bells ringing in Emma's head, the woman knowing she couldn't afford to be dazzled or charmed by the pirate, couldn't allow herself to be hurt by another man. 

In her haste to protect herself, she had done Hook damage. She had hurt and betrayed him, had let herself be deaf to the truth he had spoken. A truth that had him siding with whoever could get him to Storybrooke, so that the pirate could go after Rumplestiltskin. 

So many things gone wrong because Emma hadn't been able to trust. Hadn't WANTED to. And now it was too late, or so it seemed to Emma, the woman fighting to keep the frustration, the sadness out of her eyes. Trying to stop thinking about the if onlys, and focus on the present, on Hook and on what she was doing. 

With her hand lightly stroking the pirate's cock, Emma gave Hook her most inviting smile. "You're not about to let me do all the work, are you pirate?" She had meant to tease, to seduce, but the words came out as a challenge. A challenge Hook was only too eager to take up, his mouth suddenly there, hot and pressing on her lips. 

It was too sudden, too soon, Emma not yet recovered from the choking and the teleportation. She swayed in place, practically swooning in Hook's embrace, vaguely registering the soft, throaty chuckle the pirate let out. 

"Always knew you'd fall for me...." 

Once Emma would have snapped out an angry protest, but now wasn't the time for displays of hostility. She merely leaned against his front, peering at him with lashes that were lowered to hide the dazed look in her eyes. 

"Still trying to catch my breath." She readily admitted. Hook seemed to flinch at that, his gaze being drawn to her throat, which was colored with the bruised imprints of his hand. He looked ready to say something, to offer up some sort of apology Emma didn't want. She raised her free hand, cupping a cheek that was lightly covered in dark brown stubble. She didn't tell him it was okay, didn't try to make excuses for him. Instead Emma tried to ground him in the present, to keep him focused on a moment that might be their only chance. 

To her surprise, Hook turned to press a kiss into the palm of her hand. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, one Emma might find endearing under any other circumstance. Now it only made her want to cry, when there was no room for softer emotions. 

"Emma..." 

"Shut up and kiss me, Hook." She ordered, and even in her breathless state, she sounded fierce. 

"Bossy little blonde." But his eyes weren't dancing with the playful light Emma had come to associate with Hook's flirtations. He was far too serious, too focused, and she knew then that Hook understood this was distraction at it's best. He understood and was letting it happen, letting Emma use his desires to keep the Dark One at bay. 

Neither one of them wondered how such a thing could even be possible. Neither thought to question how attraction and sexual want could be that strong. How something like lust, even one that had gone denied for months now, could hold enough power to stop what was thought to be inevitable. 

In short, neither one thought to consider the impossible, both too damaged by love to dare give it a chance. To dare let it's seeds take root, to let it blossom and bloom, and ultimately heal. It wasn't just that both fought against the possibility of loving again, as they simply refused to even consider the chance of it happening. 

But love was a powerful magic of it's own, and not easily deterred. It would fight for it's chance, steal away into the most hidden recesses of the heart. Taking what moments it could, it would nurture and grow, and if given half a chance, might someday be powerful enough to break curses. Even a curse as powerful as that of the Dark One. 

But it wasn't there yet. Love waited hidden, just out of sight and mind, but retaining enough presence for the darkness to notice. The possibilities it offered was too seductive for the darkness to ignore, even as it courted ruin by embracing the love. 

Emma would have laughed, scoffing the very notion of love having a mind and hopes of it's own. She might have been born in the Enchanted Realm, but for all intents and purposes she wasn't truly from there. She had simply lived too long in a land without magic, had been hurt too badly to want to believe in the power of love and kisses. 

If she had believed, the power that surged between them would have knocked Emma flat on her back. As it was, Hook's hungry kiss still left her swaying in place, the fingers of her free hand digging into the torn leather of his coat. 

"Wow..." She managed to say out loud, when the room seemed to stop it's spinning. The corners of Hook's mouth turned to that familiar smirk, the pirate nodding as he huskily agreed. 

"Wow." He was looking her in the eyes, his sea dark gaze full of sexual heat and promise. She almost blushed in response, something Emma hadn't done for a man in years. "Always knew it would be this good with you, Emma...." 

And then she was kissing him, Emma not wanting to hear any more. Hook made a sound, a surprised grunt that turned into an eager moan. His good hand clutched at her waist, the cold metal of his hook at the small of her back. He was surprisingly well behaved for a pirate, Emma having expected a man like him to grope her the first chance he got. 

"You can touch me, pirate." Emma told him, then bit and pulled at his lower lip. "I won't break." 

"I want to do more than just touch you." Hook told Emma to her private thrill. "I want to eat you up." 

"All in good time." Emma said in a light tone that belied how affected she was by his words. How her heart quickened it's beat, excitement quivering through her at the picture his simple words had brought to vivid life in her mind. But Emma wanted more than just to imagine it, she wanted to shove Hook to his knees, and force him to make good on his desires. 

But she couldn't rush this. Every moment was precious, every moment another second that meant she was alive. As much as she wanted to tear off his clothes, to throw him down on the floor, and ride him to a bucking orgasm in all haste, Emma forced herself to go slow. To savor the moment as much as she could. 

Was Hook thinking similar thoughts? Was it why he so clearly held himself back? When he was rock hard and throbbing, actually thrusting lightly into her hand's grip in an effort to get some sort of relief. It had to be bordering on pain, and yet the pirate hadn't made a move to divest her of a single piece of clothing. 

Nor she him for that matter! A fact she could take care of easily enough, Emma changing her grip on his coat, so that she could begin tugging it downwards. Hook neither tried to help nor hinder her, kissing her again, their mouths both open so that the pirate's tongue easily swept inside hers. 

His taste, the salt of the sea, was on her tongue. Emma made a pleased sound, playing her tongue against his, neither taking control nor giving it up completely. Waiting for him to master her, stifling a sigh when he continued to hold back. 

"Hook...." Her tone came out warning, Emma turning her face to the side. His kisses were nibbles, tiny little exclamations of ardor against the side of her face, his tongue darting out to do a single, long lick of her skin. 

"God, you taste good." Hook muttered feverishly into her skin. "Makes me hungry for more..." 

"You..." The teasing words she had been about to speak, were lost to her gasp, Emma finding Hook had tired of holding back. With a great wrenching sound, her favorite red leather jacket was split seamlessly in two. Emma could only gape in astonishment, Hook pulling the two halves off her, and the shirt underneath it as well. 

His eyes dark with appreciation, stared at the flimsy lace of her black bra. Always one to dress nicely even down to her undergarments, Emma's bra was more decoration than functional. Barely able to keep her breasts contained, and not at all hiding the fact that her nipples were stiffening. 

"Love the way you dress." Hook moaned, his mouth already going to her breasts. Emma gave an involuntary jerk of her body, back arching as Hook's mouth closed eagerly over a lace covered nipple. 

It was almost too much, the combination of his mouth and the scratchy lace rubbing over her sensitive nipple. Emma cried out, the sound pure satisfaction as Hook licked and laved at her nipple, his cheeks hollowing out whenever he began that sweet sucking motion. 

All thought almost left Emma, the woman barely able to concentrate on anything but the feel of what Hook was doing to her. It frightened her how badly she wanted to forget, how easy it would have been to give herself over completely to the moment. Her fight or flight instincts kicked in, Emma trying to back away, to get free of Hook's arms, and that devilishly wicked mouth. 

It was easier said the done, the pirate undeterred. Holding her with arms that could very well be made of steel, Hook moved when Emma did, lifting his mouth up off her breast to kiss her senseless against a wood paneled wall. Emma almost whimpered then, rapidly being swept away by Hook's passion, by the excitement that filled her, the fierce longing want that sucker punched her into weakening before him. Her legs buckled, and suddenly they were around Hook's body, Emma having let go of his cock to wrap her arms around him. 

His hand was gripping her bottom, that hook of his rubbing it's cold metal along the length of her spine. It was the shock of cold against her warmed skin that almost brought Emma back to her senses, but Hook's kisses stole away whatever reason she tried to grab for. 

Fiercely they kissed, Emma's fingers finding the holes in his clothing. Digging in, then tearing them wider, ruining the remains of his shirt with her passion. Her legs were locked tight around him, Emma's dampened sex seated directly over Hook's cock. Pure instinct had her moving her hips. Emma rubbing herself on him. Causing a sweet, maddening friction that left them both growling, Hook's hips moving, thrusting against her as though he was already inside her. 

She actually whined in need, kissing Hook just as hard, as desperately as he had her. Both their lips were swollen, their breaths rasping out of them in deep pants. Her chest heaved in an attempt to catch her breath, drawing Hook's attention back to her breasts. His hook was suddenly there, ripping the lace open, the bra's remains hanging down as a limp frame on either side of her breasts. 

"Such magnificence..." She heard Hook whisper in awe. And then his mouth was on her, and it was a dozen times better without the bra in the way. Emma took to moaning, arching her back and pressing her breasts against Hook's lips. He didn't just go for her nipples, he kissed all over that round skin, leaving love bite imprints on her flesh. 

"Enough, enough..." Emma was saying, but she didn't want him to stop. She caught at the back of his hair, attempting to haul him away from her breasts. Hook growled in protest, but only until she made her demands known. 

"Need you inside me NOW." She told him, locking their gazes together. He didn't hesitate, didn't ask if she was sure. Hook merely stripped her of her jeans, and the panties on underneath, and within half of second of that, was thrusting inside her. 

"Oh yes..." Emma hissed out in welcome relief. Desire pooled, everything about Emma tightening around Hook, her nails digging into his back, her legs locking in place. Hook actually hissed back, flashing pearl white teeth in a feral grimace. 

"Too tight, too soon..." He actually seemed to be struggling, standing frozen as his cock throbbed with near violent need inside her. Emma couldn't bring herself to relax, didn't want to let go for a single instant. She clutched at his back with her hands, bit down hard on his right shoulder a second before she issued a demand. 

"Move." 

With the bitter, metallic taste of his blood on her tongue, Emma felt the powerful surge of Hook's hips all the way from her head on down to her toes. Before she could even decide if this was pain or pleasure he was giving her, Hook had found a rhythm, steady but deep, and just on the side of frantic. 

Her back bumped against the wall with every thrust of Hook's hips, Emma biting, and clawing at whatever she could reach. Going wild as she decided that yes this was bliss, all pleasure and satisfaction, the friction their bodies were generating together making them both crazed and desperate. 

Sweat beaded on both their bodies, Hook taking the time to lick several droplets off of the top of Emma's breasts. When he began teasing her nipples with his deft tongue, Emma's hands found their way into his hair, fingers clutching at his scalp while the woman made breathless sounds of appreciation. 

Her nipples were a steady ache, soothed only when Hook's lips was around them. The wet warmth of his mouth a curing salve that needed constant applying, every sucking pull of his lips making Emma wiggle and whine and go even wilder against him. Squirming, moving her hips to match his thrusts, tossing her head back in open abandonment. 

Emma lost herself completely, living only for the moment, for the sensations their joining was creating. Purpose forgotten, Emma looked at Hook, and was taken in by that seductive dark beauty, entirely entranced by the sin glittering in his eyes. 

\----------------------------------------- 

To Be Continued...


	3. Three

Sex with Emma Swan was exactly what Hook had always known it would be. A wild experience, like holding a bolt of lightning in your arms. No shy and timid miss, Emma was a red hot blaze, setting him on fire long before she had ever purposefully set out to seduce him. Hook had wanted a taste of her from the moment they had first laid eyes on each other, Emma with her long blonde hair, and form fitting clothing. And every moment that passed since then had sizzled with awareness, Hook finding she wasn't just pretty, but had a sharp, cunning mind, and a hardened shell around the tough exterior of her heart. 

Emma wasn't just to be admired. In Hook's eyes she was to be held, to be touched, tasted, fucked. And if the circumstances had been right, if Hook hadn't had his heart engulfed in a grief that had lasted for several hundred years, he might have even considered Emma perfect for loving. 

But Hook hadn't had use for love in years. Hadn't wanted it in forever. He had all but let his heart die the day his beloved Mila had been killed, Hook ceasing to live, to thrive, existing instead for one and only one purpose alone. 

Revenge. 

Hook had let himself become a shell of the man who had once love life. A man who had been in the pursuit of pleasure in all it's finest forms. He had gone from a hedonistic life style, to a man possessed. Driven by only one need, desperate for it, needing relief from it and the memories that haunted him. 

His grief was a cold companion to his revenge, Hook tormented by what he had lost. By who had been lost, Hook angry whenever he thought of the life denied him and Mila. Their dreams of a happily ever after destroyed, Hook wanted to do the same to the man---the monster who had been the ruin of all Hook had held dear. 

Rumplestiltskin. 

A coward who had grown big feeding off other's fears and misfortunes, revenge seemed all but impossible when up against the power Rumplestiltskin now had. And yet Hook hadn't been able to rest, hadn't been able to give up thoughts of revenge. He'd spend something like three hundred years in Neverland's waters, letting it's magic extend his youth and life to an unnatural length. Using the time Neverland granted him to plot, to seek out and find the things rumored to be able to defeat the being Rumplestiltskin had become. 

All quests turned up nothing, the leads going cold. There was no one and nothing that had the power to destroy the Dark One, no power or talisman, no spell or enchantment. Or so it had seemed, until the day Hook learned of a dagger. A dagger told to him by the Dark One's own son. 

Of course Baelfire hadn't known just who he was betraying his father too, when he so innocently slipped and spoke of the dagger. But then Baelfire wouldn't be the first, or the last person Hook would use, in his never ending quest for revenge. So many faces come to him now, Baelfire's, Smee's, Aurora's and Belle's. Even the two queens, but the one Hook focuses on the most is the fierce blonde who is currently wrapped tighter than a fist around him. 

She feels more than amazing, any words Hook could think of to praise her falling short of Emma's true glory. Radiating warmth and light, working Hook up to a frenzy, she is a tiger against him. Clawing apart his shirt, her nails scratching at his skin, while her teeth bite down on his shoulder, Emma bleeds him and it only makes Hook harder. 

His body thrumming with power, he pistons into her furiously. Hook knows she will be sore, that the inside of her thighs and her back will bear the bruises of this sizzling encounter. But any attempt by him to slow down and gentle his actions, is met with resistance from her, Emma clinging to him, writhing. Actually digging her heels into his ass, trying to force him to keep up that relentless pace under the guidance of the pressure of her feet. 

Hook's sure every word uttered is some kind of curse, the two of them both raspy toned and breathless. Emma's keeping them pressed as close as possible, shifting only at his urging, and only long enough to allow a mere sampling of her breasts. She seems to thrive on the constant feel of their skin pressed together, and truth be known so did Hook. As much as he enjoyed her breasts, there was something equally satisfying to feel them squishing against his chest, with her pebbled nipples rubbing against his. 

Hook can't stop kissing her. It doesn't matter where, a moment on the cheek, a lifetime on the lips. Her throat already so bruised from his earlier abuse, gets even more, Hook biting and sucking, finding her pulse point, and laving his tongue over it. Finding it's tempo is almost as frantic as his hip's movements, and equally as wild. 

Somewhere, a moan is torn out of him. Emma is moving in new, unexpected ways, rolling her hips in a circular motion. It is different from the steady up and down thrust bounce of their bodies, lessening but not crushing the climax that has been building inside him. His balls already swollen with seed, tingles in new ways, Hook biting at his lip a second before Emma does the same. 

Their eyes meet in that moment, and it's not love or like, or even desperate, animalistic need that stares back. The lust that they are feeling, the euphoric feeling they should be building towards, is instead colored by something darker, something devastating. Emma looks at Hook and sees her coming death, and Hook is unable to do anything but feel regret that his actions have led them to this. 

"Sorry..." He whispers, and the pirate is actually ashamed. "I'm so sorry...." 

Emma doesn't lie and tell him it's okay. Or that she's fine with it and forgives him. Neither does she scream and strike out, or break down in tears. She'll play the hard ass to the end, no braver person than she, as Emma faces down death in order to buy the others' time to escape. 

Hook wishes it wasn't so, wishes he could do something more than give her these desperate stolen moments. But the compulsion inside him, the commands given to him by the ones who hold the dagger, are ever present and strong. Regina and Cora want him to kill this woman, to kill Emma AND her family. Hook and Emma's desires hold the compulsion at bay, but have not defeated it. It waits for it chance, waits for Hook to slip, and for the Dark One to come forth. To fulfill orders given, to hunt down and kill, to be without mercy, and above all a tool of the Evil Queens. 

The frustration he feels, has the pirate slamming his hook into the wall. The paneling creaks and splinters around the silver tip, allowing the hook to penetrate into the wood. Hook's cursing, railing against the fates, against his own foolish, reckless, STUPID actions. Hating that he had been so quick to find and use the dagger, a weapon he hadn't even properly researched, let alone learned what repercussions it's use would have. 

Hook had grown used to using people. To hurting them. In a life lived only for revenge, it had been cruel but absolutely necessary. There was little that was considered going too far, everything from switching allies at a drop of the hat, to taking a princess heart, fair game. He had lied, connived, tricked and manipulated, used and been used himself. Why the very nature of all his relationships had been about such things. From Regina, to Cora, even Emma had been about using. About deceit and betrayals, about doing whatever it took to get to the point he could finally kill Rumplestiltskin. 

Emma wasn't an innocent in this either. She had been just as quick to use and betray him, a fact that hadn't made Hook hurt nearly as much as admire her. She was very much like a pirate, holding her own code of honor. Loyal to those she let in and deemed worthy, Hook had most assuredly not earned her trust. And though he HAD been angry with her, for backstabbing and leaving him on top of the beanstalk, Hook couldn't claim she was entirely wrong in doing that. Not when Hook's own loyalties had been fast and loose, the pirate looking out only for himself. 

And now here he was, not only regretting, but wishing there had been some other way. Wishing he had stopped and considered his revenge complete, after the princess Belle was cursed into forgetting not only who she was, but her love for Rumplestiltskin. Wishing that had been enough of a blow against Rumplestiltskin, wishing he had ignored the grief that had still flowed through him, regretting thinking his pain and suffering would stop if he could just do something even worse to the monster. 

But the revenge hadn't been enough, hadn't hurt Rumplestiltskin enough, and Hook's pain and torment had remained. Hook had wanted to fill his empty heart with something other than pain and misery it constantly felt, had actually thought if he killed Rumplestiltskin, he'd finally feel relief. 

But Hook had been wrong. Again. Killing Rumplestiltskin hadn't made Hook feel anything, not relief, not peace, not even satisfaction at a job well done. The familiar ache had remained, Hook wondering if anything but oblivion would end his torment. But before Hook had been able to turn and raise the dagger in on himself, the power had hit him. Power so immense, it nearly brought Hook to his knees, magic running rampant INSIDE him. Stomach churning, blood on fire, a stabbing pain spreading through him, Hook had somehow managed not to scream. He endured the magic that was rollicking within his body, changing him, making him into something else, and he hadn't understood. Hadn't even after his name, his REAL name, Killian Jones, had inscribed itself onto the dagger's blade. 

He doesn't quite remember when the full realization hit, but when it did? Hook had screamed. Not so much of terror, but of full out despair. A rough broken cry, that was equal if not worse to the scream Hook had let out the day Mila's heart had been ripped out of her chest, then crushed before his eyes. 

Understanding that he hadn't had before, hit him then. Hook felt the power of thousands coursing through him, all the knowledge and skill of the Dark Ones that preceded him. Chief among that understanding, was this. That magic came with a price. It ALWAYS came with a price. A price Hook was paying in spades, having worked the worse kind of magic, for the worst reason, and with the worst emotion in his heart. Death plus revenge plus hate made a most potent combination, with few if any more powerful than those three combined.

Hook had become what he had hated for so long, what he had hunted and obsessed about. He had become the monster, had Rumplestiltskin's voice in his head. The pirate swore he could hear Rumplestiltskin laughing at him, Hook screaming anew, the dagger dropping from his hand. Hook fell to his knees then, dry heaving in response to his despair, his horror at his curse. Life immortal was no gift to one who had lived for the day he could finally die. 

Life resumed around him, Hook aware of shouts, of fighting. In some ways it had never stopped, everyone battling, jockeying for position, trying to kill, trying to protect, attempting whatever it took to come out on top. Then they had fought for Hook, for the dagger he had dropped, and he still hadn't understood! Not until Cora had snatched the dagger off the floor with her magic, not until she ran curved nails over the name--Hook's name, engraved in the metal. 

Hook had felt that touch like a sharp caress on his soul, and the words that followed, Cora speaking his name, enslaving him as the Dark One, making him hers to command. It had felt like a chained leashed around his neck, one that grew tighter and tighter the longer Hook resisted her commands. Hurting but not killing him, not even letting him pass out to escape the pain. 

He had seen then what his life would be like, what he would always be. Just a slave, a tool for the queens to use, an extension of their will. And their first awful command was to order the complete and total annihilation of their enemies, the Charmings. Cora had spoken each name with relish, painting magical targets on Snow White, Prince Charming, and Emma Swan's back. 

Hook's horror was no worse than the Charming family's own. They had been prepared to fight, until they saw Hook battle against the command. His own hesitations had bought them time, the family taking off running, the queens snarling and screeching in outrage. Hook remembers Regina slapping him with her magic, Cora wielding the dagger, repeating that awful command. Over and over, until Hook could resist no more, and he had HAD to move, to pursue the family with that deadly compulsion guiding his every move. 

He had gone after them with killing intent, but holding the wish that they knew something he had not. That they would be able to not only stop, but kill the Dark One, the monster that Hook had become. But it had become readily apparent that they did not, and not even Emma's lusty manipulations could hold the monster at bay forever. That she could at all, was amazing, but Hook wasn't think on what it really meant. On what she could someday mean to him. He wasn't thinking on love, wasn't wishing for kisses that could break curses. Why would he, when he had seen what Rumplestiltskin had had, and had wrongfully assumed that Belle, who had loved him, hadn't been able to transform the Dark One back to human. 

Hook wasn't thinking that the dark magic inside him had recognized something in Emma. Something that Hook himself wouldn't have wanted to believe in. He wasn't thinking in the potential of love, or for happily ever after, and certainly not that of true love's kiss. If he had even just the slightest hope, love would have had room to maneuver, to be nurtured. It would have done more than just distract the Dark One, it would have stripped him free of any murderous commands. 

It wasn't, and he wasn't, and for the first time in forever, Hook felt ready to cry. To weep and grieve for someone other than himself and Mila, to hold regrets that weren't purely selfish. Hook looked at Emma and he was truly sorry, and knew his feelings weren't enough, that his apologies weren't going to save the day. 

And she was okay with that, her own eyes wet with tears, as Emma reached up and cupped Hook's face with her hands. Such tenderness wasted, for Hook felt he didn't deserve her kindness, or her acceptance of what he had to do. He fought her as she pulled him down for a lip biting, soul touching kiss, her gasp being swallowed up by Hook, as his body tensed, then pumped forward three times more, seed flowing out of him in an eruption of liquid warmth. 

She was greedy for it, Hook feeling Emma's body spasming. Quivering and convulsing, Emma's own climax working to draw out Hook's, to make him spill every drop he had inside her. Groaning, Hook let their bodies reach the natural conclusion, touching his forehead to Emma's, and listening to her panting breaths. 

Hook wanted to stay like that forever, Emma held against him, with his cock buried as deep as it could reach inside her. He didn't want to think what would happen once he pulled out, once the compulsion kicked up in strength. He didn't want to think about having to kill her, didn't want to see his hands red with her blood, or see the life snuffed out of her. Hook didn't want anything bad to touch this moment, or the moments that followed, and he actively fought Emma when she began to squirm free of his arms. 

"Emma, dont.." Hook started to say, and nearly gasped himself when she dropped to the floor. First assumptions had Hook thinking Emma had tried to stand on her own too soon, but the hands reaching around his cock vanished that and nearly all thoughts from his head. For Emma was not only touching him, she was bending her face over the crown of his cock, licking at the still wet head. It wasn't just a tentative lick, it was a bold out and out tasting, Emma firmly laving her tongue over as much as it could cover in one stroke. 

Hook's body tensed, the man staring down at her in disbelief. He had fantasies about her doing this, but had never expected it to be this easy. But there she was, the glorified savior of Storybrooke, on her knees and licking at his cock. Cleaning it with her tongue, making him tingle anew, and then surge to life in a way it had never done before so fast. Hook wasn't sure what the hell was going on, if this was another facet of the Dark One's magic, but he wasn't about to let it go to waste. And neither was Emma, judging by the positively wicked look she gave him, a moment before she took him into her mouth. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

To Be Continued...


	4. Four

With a sharp cry voicing the most basic of needs, Hook all but bucked his hips forward. His cock's surging thrust forward met with no resistance, Emma Swan welcoming him into the wet velvet heat of her mouth. His stunned gaze found the bold acknowledgement in hers, Emma looking up at him and understanding just what effect she was having on him. Understanding and embracing it, the woman pure sin as she bobbed her head down in a slow, deliberate manner. 

Hook had to fight every impulse within him, his butt clenching as the pirate filled with tension. Fighting to resist the urge to go mindless, and just keep on thrusting into her, battling against the all too male and selfish desire to ruthlessly seek out his own pleasure at the expense of hers. 

Emma Swan didn't help matters, keeping her swollen red lips pursed tight around him in a vise like grip. She was doing something with her tongue, rubbing it against the bottom side of his shaft. Hook all but dribbled, a steady flow of what he did not know, for the pirate was sure he didn't have a drop of semen left inside him. 

And then Emma Swan began attempting to draw out that fluid, actively exerting sweet suction on the cock in her mouth. Hook saw stars, let out the most vicious of curses. This was insane, past the wildest of his many fantasies. Emma was doing things a princess shouldn't even know about, working Hook's body like a fine fiddle. And Hook wanted more, before reason and sanity, and more importantly guilt set in. Because Hook knew this was going too far, was asking too much of the woman he was compelled to kill. 

And yet, in the moment Hook couldn't quite remember why he was supposed to kill Emma. Hell, he could barely remember how to stand upright, Hook's legs actually SHAKING. He was actually fighting gravity, and the only reason Hook didn't fall down to the floor, was fear that that would somehow make Emma stop what she was doing. 

But the blonde was determined. And the sparkle in her eyes, spoke volumes of the fun she was having. Fun she wasn't in any way ready to stop. She reached for him, her hands going to his hips. Gripping him there, just above the slung low waist of his trousers, her hands not soft like a princess, but textured enough from handling a sword. A warrior's touch, electric tingles shooting between them at contact. 

Hook was pretty sure he was spouting gibberish by the time Emma used her own grip on his hips, to hold him still for the bobbing motion of her head. Her long blonde hair framed her face, touching the inside of his thighs, and even that was stimulating. The silk like strands caressed and teased his skin, while her mouth made his toes curl in his boots, Hook falling back against the paneling, the wall the only thing supporting his stay upright. 

He felt her fingers kneading at his hips, Emma continuing to bob back and forth along the length of him. Taking him deeper inch by inch, until she was almost sealing her lips down to the base of him. Hook shivered as though cold every time his cock was slid out of her mouth. Only to cry out, when the warmth immediately invited him back in, Emma far too generous to a wretch like Hook. 

She was like no other woman Hook had ever been with. He had never known someone so generous and giving, so sweetly sacrificing when put in this kind of situation. Hell most women Hook had known, hadn't liked this particular act at all, and he could think of none who had actively made his flesh feel worshipped and adored as Emma now did. 

He felt like a God, not the monster he had been tricked into becoming. Not the monster, and not the fool, Hook knowing he had been lied to, and manipulated, events orchestrated so he would find and use the dagger, and become the queens' slave. But it was hard, oh so hard, to recall just how those events had come to be, and what man would be fool enough to truly focus on anything else but the way sweet Emma's mouth felt around him. The way she looked at him, massaging his hips, then sliding one hand behind him, into his pants. He spilled without warning, at the contact of her hand cupping his ass, Emma caressing over his firm behind. 

She kept right on caressing, her hot mouth eager and swallowing down all he gave her. All save for a thin trickle down the corner of her mouth, and then the room swayed, and Hook was collapsing to the floor in an ungraceful heap. He threw an arm up over his eyes, blocking out the spinning sights, his own chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths, Hook feeling as though he had run miles on pure adrenaline. 

He was exhausted, his mind in some kind of euphoric haze, sexual bliss coursing through him. If ever there was a time for Emma to leave, now would be it. Hook would simply be too tired to stop her, the queens' compulsion be damned. 

But what happened next was completely out the realm of his expectations. And it firmly established just how much control he had lost. And that was assuming he had ever had control in the first place once Emma Swan had set out to touch him with seduction in mind. Because from that moment, Hook had mostly like been hers to toy with. To use or abuse, to control and manipulate, to torment and ultimately to have. For if this was suffering, Hook would gladly endure a dozen times worse, for the experience of Emma Swan climbing on top of his tired body. 

He didn't even think to protest, wasn't even that surprised when he got hard for the third time in a matter of minutes. Hook could only groan, and even tired as he was, it didn't stop his hips from moving, from pushing up off the floor to meet Emma halfway. 

Dropping his arm from his face, Hook watched with a glittering gaze of pure heat and appreciation, as Emma got a steady grip around his shaft. She wasn't trying to tease him, merely hold his cock still as she lowered herself the rest of the way onto him. Even before he was deep inside her, Hook moaned, the wet inviting heat of her body alone enough to drive him insane. And that was before one took into account that this was the third time he was inside her in a matter of minutes. 

It was as unbelievable as it was amazing, and then Emma was taking full control. Moving her hips in a downright furious bouncing motion, riding Hook like he was some wild stallion she meant to tame with her body. It was hard, it was rough, and above all it was fucking fantastic. He needn't have done a thing, and for the first few moments, Hook did nothing more than prop himself up on his elbows, watching Emma bounce on his cock. 

She was beauty in motion, from the bounce of her hips, to the sweaty sheen that made her skin glisten. Her magnificent breasts quivered with every breath, actually did a bouncing all their own, while her nipples seemed locked in a semi permanent state of arousal. Just like he seemed to be, Hook groaning, his dick throbbing inside Emma each time she rocked back and forth, switching out from that bouncing motion, to a frantic rubbing motion. 

He watched her bite her lip, Emma's eyes closing as she concentrated on the pleasure. She made the sexiest sounds as she did this, continuing her forwards backwards shifting, as if soothing herself from a pleasure that had been too intense, too soon. And just when Hook thought she was finished, that she was done with the sex and him, her hands touched his chest. Sliding a caress over his muscled skin, stroking nails over the lines of his abdomen before steadying hands on his stomach, palms down. Emma gave him the most devastating of smiles, did a little side to side wiggle of her hips then launched herself back into a hard bouncing motion. 

He was along for the ride, Hook hissing, cursing like a mad man. Several times he tried to reach for her, tried to grasp hold of her hips. Each time she slapped his hand away, Emma bound and determined to control the pace of this, and yet Hook couldn't stop trying to touch her! 

And then her climax hit her, Emma crying out. She tossed back her head, the ends of her hair the merest ghost of a tease on his legs. Emma shook with her orgasm, the words oh yes, repeated over and over, like it had become her personal prayer. Her back arched with it, her breasts being thrust out further, the mouth watering curves calling to him, demanding his special brand of attention. 

Hook was all to happy to oblige, not caring if it was sneaky or underhanded to pounce on Emma when she was so clearly distracted. He shifted them both just enough so that he could plant his face between her breasts, affection and adoration being kissed into her skin, his stubble cheeks rubbing against the sides of both her breasts. Emma gasped during this, and then Hook felt the answering quiver of her body, the next climax hitting Emma right on the heels of her other. 

Her creamy insides coiled around him, Hook hissing in pleasure that was almost bordering pain. Enjoying the way Emma's orgasm felt, the quivering convulsions that set him off trembling, throbbing with need. Hook fell back against the floor, his knees bending so that his hips were partway off the floor. Emma stay seated on him, crying out as Hook began moving, bouncing into her while latching his mouth onto her right nipple. 

It was perhaps cruel to stimulate her so, to try and force out a third climax in a matter of seconds. But Emma seemed just as crazed as Hook, whining in need, pushing against his lips, her stiff little nipple a pebble against his tongue. He rolled it with his tongue, suckled at it with his lips, bit down on it with his teeth. He hooked his arm around her, over the back of her shoulders and neck, holding her prisoner against him as he used his good hand to grip her bottom. His fingers dug into her lightly tanned skin, leaving red imprints that would darken to bruises later on. Hook used his grip on her ass, to force her to move the way he wanted, the way he needed Emma to move, and they screamed together, words in perfect harmony. 

"Oh Fuck!" 

That was only the start, of what would prove to be hours of decadent sexual indulgence, the two seeming insatiable now that they had had each other. They repeated it on the floor, did it on a chair, against a desk, and ultimately ended up in Hook's bed. They experimented with positions, with touches and varying speeds. They figured out what worked best, what felt good, what didn't. And each time they finished, just when Hook thought he could do no more, Emma would touch him. She'd coax another rise out of him, and then Hook's instinct would take over, the man a slave to the need Emma aroused within him. 

It was amazing, but ultimately exhausting, leaving muscles sore and aching. Emma probably hurt more than Hook, for she was still human, where as he had become some otherworldly creature. But even the Dark One needed rest, Hook almost relieved when Emma collapsed on top of him. For he had started to think that sex was the weapon with which Emma would use to kill him. But Hook could think of worse ways to die, and none that would have made him smile as much as he had done with Emma in his arms. 

The Dark One too, seemed satisfied. Hook might dare say that both he and the monster inside him, were at peace. Content with what had been happening, with the woman that lay on top of them. His sore dick was inside her, Emma protesting when Hook had tried to pull out. Was it the intimacy of a connection she wanted, or was there more to it then that? Did Emma fear what would happen, should the sex come to a complete stop? Had she driven herself to a state of exhaustion in a desperate attempt to keep Hook from going through with the Evil Queen's commands? But the compulsion had quieted, not even so much a whisper of it in his head. Hook didn't know what this meant, or when it had gone completely silent, but he knew things wouldn't--couldn't remain the way they were. 

"Emma..." Hook took her by the shoulder, trying to rouse her out of her sleep. She made a sleepy protest, and kept her eyes closed, hugging her arms around him. "Come on, Emma darling, now is not the time for sleep." 

But she was stubbornly clinging to her exhaustion, Emma not even bothering to respond. Hook sighed, and attempted to sit up, trying to ignore the way even that felt titillating, considering how Emma was wrapped around him! 

His bedroom aboard the Jolly Roger, was a familiar and comforting sight, Hook looking around the cabin, trying to figure out when his pants and boots had come off. Trying to figure out where the remains of Emma's clothes were, wondering if anything had survived that first frantic undressing. 

Trying to untangle himself from the beauty in his arms, Emma clinging harder to him, leaving Hook to suspect she wasn't as deep asleep as the woman pretended. He finally pulled free, and left her laying on the bed. Swaying on unsteady feet, Hook moved around the cabin, spying the red leather jacket, or rather what remained of it. It was the same with her shirt, and Hook couldn't find or remember just what he had done to her pants. 

It wasn't just their clothes that were a mess. The room had suffered too, furniture tipped over, things knocked on the floor. There was a section of wall ruined, the paneling shattered apart by his hook. They had made memories here, brought fantasies to life that Hook would never be able to forget. Hell, he'd never be able to be in this room again and not think of Emma, and what they had done to each other. 

Hook could only hope the memories wouldn't be tinged with sadness, the pirate ever aware of the situation he found himself in. The compulsion had gone quiet in his head, but Hook feared it's return. The accompanying pain that he'd be able to fight only for so long, the thing he would have to do, the life of the vibrant and passionate woman in danger because of him. Hook couldn't stand the thought that he might kill Emma, that her death would be added to his many sins. And he wasn't content to wait around, hoping that the promise of sex would dissuade the beast yet another time. 

Moving with a purpose, Hook gathered things from his closet. Most of his clothing would in no way fit Emma, certainly not the pants or the shoes. But a shirt he could give her, Hook not about to send her out into the world naked. He got socks for her feet, and though it would have little effect, he even brought out his sword, a twin spare to the one he normally carried. 

Emma lay where he had left her, her blonde hair spread wild around her, giving the woman the illusion of an angel's halo. But she was no angel, far too real and wild, and made a dozen times better for all her passions and desires. Hook could have spent a lifetime just staring at her, comforted by the idea of Emma Swan asleep in his bed. But time was precious, and he had to get her moving, had to wake her up from whatever dreams Emma might be entertaining. 

Emma fought the wake up call, remaining a boneless heap as Hook cradled her against him. Her head ended up against his shoulder, the woman breathing in his scent with a sigh. Hook tried to ignore the shiver that went through him, Emma rubbing her cheek against him with a sleepy murmur. 

"Come on, sleepy head." Hook said, lips twitching with a smile. "You've got to get up now." He was dressing her as he said this, sliding first one arm into the sleeve of one of his black silk shirts, and then the other. It wasn't easy dressing a woman, Hook far too used to getting them OUT of their clothing, rather than in. But he managed, getting the shirt buttoned up, the hem of it falling down past her knees. He'd use a sword belt to cinch the waist, and shift her, so that he could lift up a leg at a time. Pulling socks over her feet, and marveling at the strangeness, the inherent wrongness of the situation. Because to a pirate like Hook, it was downright criminal and insane to be covering up the luscious beauty that was Emma Swan! 

Hook didn't think it possible, but he wanted her again. Did that make him an insatiable beast? But he couldn't, shouldn't justify ravishing her, not when there was a chance she could escape with her life intact. Gripping her by the arm, Hook began shaking her, watching the frown appear on Emma's face, a moment before she opened her eyes and glared at him. 

"Honestly pirate, haven't I earned a rest?" 

"You've more than earned it." Hook assured her. "Rest and more...but I'm afraid we---you don't have the luxury of it." 

Emma's glare lessened, her skin paling as reality came thundering past. A nervous swallow followed Emma jerking free of his hand, the woman nearly falling off the bed's edge in her haste to scramble away from him. 

Hook did nothing to pursue her. He merely sat there, a naked and still statue. Watching as Emma looked around, took stock of what he had done. She didn't ask about her clothes, and her hands caressed the sword in it's scabbard. 

"Why aren't I dead?" 

"It's gone quiet." Hook told her, and she frowned anew. "Like the quiet before a storm. Emma, I don't think we have a lot of time...you've got to leave here....NOW." 

She was nodding, not even asking any questions, not even to find out just where here was. Hook wished it could be different, wished they were parting on circumstances that were better than what they actually were. And did he dare hope Emma felt the same way? Or was Hook deluding himself? 

Emma didn't walk, so much as run on unsteady legs to the bedroom's door. Hook didn't expect her to look back, but she did, some unvoiced emotion in her eyes. He couldn't figure it out, didn't know that his own gaze was equally full of feelings and unspoken words. 

"GO!" He snapped harshly to her, and Emma flinched, then fled from him. Wanting more from her, of her, and knowing better, Hook could only hope this would be the last time he would ever see her. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

To Be Continued...


	5. Five

It was stupid of her to stop. Hesitation of any kind would most likely get her killed, and yet Emma had done it all the same. Wanting, NEEDING one last look at Hook, emotions bubbling within her, words freezing in her throat at the sight of him. Not that Emma had known what to say in this situation. A situation that STILL felt unreal, Emma having had what amounted to the most intense, insane, greatest and ultimately tiring sex of her life. And with a pirate of all things. With captain fucking Hook, the man a story book legend of at least several worlds. 

Of course the books had NEVER come close to mentioning Hook's attractive charm and appeal, his flirtatious ways, or the fact that he was amazing as a lover. No, the books hadn't touched upon that, or the sculpted perfection of his body, his rugged yet handsome dark looks, or the way his eyes turned black in sexual frenzy as he growled and fucked his way to climax. 

It was a look that was seared into her brain, that and dozens upon dozens of other intimacies Emma knew she would never forget. She had been woefully unprepared for the reality of Captain Hook, for the attraction that had blazed between them from the start, and just as unprepared to learn that fairy tales didn't stop at just a kiss. She had her tired body as proof of that, bruised and sore in places that had been well used. 

Emma hurt, and it didn't have all to do with overused muscles. Her feelings were stirred, conflicted and confused, ready to blur the line between lust and love. She had a connection now with Hook, forged in the heat of hours passed, the sex offering up a tenacious bond that could either be strengthened or shattered. 

Confused as she was, Emma wasn't sure which extremes she leaned towards. Resentment actually curled inside her, Emma knowing the situation she and Hook found themselves in, didn't allow room for a choice to be freely made. Because so long as Hook was the Dark One and under the terrible compulsion to kill her, that fledgling bond of theirs could only break. 

Emma didn't know what the future held. Didn't know if she even had a future left to her. But frustration bloomed within her, Emma realizing she would never get to follow through on the messy complications caused by having mad, passionate, ultimately fantastic sex with Captain Hook. And it wasn't fair! Even if he was an over confidant, aggravating, and downright smug pirate, even if she didn't trust in happily ever after, or believe in true love's kiss, they should have had the right, the chance to make it or break it together. 

Her eyes conveyed many things, a sad need in them. Hook's gaze showed he was suffering similar to Emma's. They hadn't blurred the line, confusing sex for love, but they both were wanting more. A chance for something, anything other then what Cora and Regina would decide for them. 

And then Hook was snapping at her, a hard edge to his expression that hadn't been there before. "Go!" He ordered of her, and flinching, Emma turned and ran out of the room. Her mind and feelings might be all torn up, but her emotions' conflict didn't stop her self preservation instincts from kicking in. Emma ran, keeping her hand on the hilt of her borrowed sword. 

The smooth wood beneath her sock covered feet, made the way slippery. Her legs felt like jelly, in no condition to truly hold her up, let alone allow Emma to maintain running for very long. She slipped, slid, and stumbled her way through a narrow corridor, noting the sway of the floor, and realized she was on a ship just moments before she climbed the last step to the deck of the Jolly Roger. 

Thankful that the ship hadn't been put out to sea, Emma's heart still constricted painfully in her chest at the sight of Storybrooke's harbor. It might be familiar ground, but the harbor was located almost exactly opposite of where she had to be, Emma knowing there was only one place she could go. Only one place that would be safe or so she hoped, Emma knowing she had to leave Storybrooke, actually cross it's magical, cursed boundary. Once past it, even if the Queens followed, their magic would become useless, stripping them of any real power. And their memories too, if Emma was really lucky. 

It was a long shot in more ways than one. Emma hoped for the Queens to be cursed, to follow and lose everything, their magic, their memories, their evil. But if they couldn't, if things remained as they were, Emma and her family would have no choice but to leave Storybrooke. An idea that HURT, for Storybrooke had actually become home to Emma. It wasn't just the town, but the people who made up it's population, friends Emma cared about, people she had protected for over a year's time as their sheriff. Emma might lose all that, AND the love of the parents she had just begun to know, for David and Mary Margaret had no protection from the boundary's curse. They would forget their daughter, forget who they really were, even forget the danger that stalked them. 

But for now Emma pushed aside thoughts of that, and the difficulties that would accompany her parents losing their true memories. She had to focus on getting to the town's limits, to luring her enemies to cross over after her. And she wasn't going to get far on foot, Emma cursing under her breath as she realized her car keys were in her pocket. Her jeans' pocket, the denim lost somewhere amidst the mess of Hook's bedroom cabin. 

Emma almost slowed, almost turned back the way she had come. And it hadn't been all out of the desire to get her keys. Not when she had excitement thrumming through her at the mere thought that she would get to see him again. Excitement that couldn't be dimmed by the truth, by the knowledge that Emma would be risking her life to venture back into the pirate's den. 

Recognizing she had been screwed in more ways than one, Emma continued her running. She was off of Hook's ship, and now running on the concrete of the harbor's grounds. Running in the direction that would lead to main street, to Gold's shop, where her car was parked nearby. Hoping she would have enough of a head start to hot wire her own car, and hating the girlish impulses that had Emma wanting to imagine anything good could come of encountering Hook a second time. 

Ever a practical woman, Emma forced herself to push aside her thoughts and foolish wants. She made herself think not on Hook, on what they had shared, on what could have come as a result of it, and instead focused on her present. On the objectives she gave herself. Get to her car. Hot wire it. Then drive like a mad woman, breaking all known traffic laws to get to the town's limits. Worry about David and Mary Margaret later, hoping they were safe with Henry and Ruby, and that they hadn't been forced to cross over the cursed boundary early. 

Emma almost made it to phase two of her plan, actually had her hand on the door of her beloved yellow car, when it happened. Her skin tingled with awareness, hairs raising on the back of her neck, and then she was spinning, Hook's borrowed sword in her hand. The naked metal gleamed with the shine of the street's spotlight, slicing through air and slamming into flesh. She felt as much as heard Hook's surprised grunt, the pirate not having tried to block or deflect her blade's attack. 

"Hook!" She gasped like a fool, her heart's beat yammering away in her chest. 

His eyes were a tormented blue, so sad and ridden with pain that had nothing to do with the wound her sword had inflicted into his flesh. Emma found it an ill fitting expression, Hook a man who should have been full of light and laughter, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Not looking so bleak and defeated, so tortured over what he had to do. 

"Run." He said, not bothering with the sword in his side. His hand was gripping her arm, pulling Emma way from her car. Practically flinging her away from him, Hook sounding desperate as he repeated his urgings. "Emma quickly, run!" 

She stumbled on the sidewalk, before gaining a steady footing. Nodding, Emma began to run, tossing back over her shoulder at Hook to fight it. To fight the compulsion the queens had forced on him. She didn't get a reply, Hook busy making sounds, tortured moans chasing after her as the pirate fought against Cora's command. 

The sounds made her chest tighten, Emma feeling for Hook. Feeling for his pain, for the agony he was going through, and that was before he screamed. Still running, Emma turned to look over her shoulder, and ran into something solid. Dread hit her, Emma knowing without looking it was Hook she had run into. Hook with his black leather, his sea salt taste, his spicy after shave, and a body she would forever now recognize by the fit, the feel of it against hers. 

Wanting to melt against him, but stiffening instead, Emma tried to back away. But Hook was grabbing at her, his hand on her arm, his hook at her back. Locking her in a steel embrace, effortlessly pressing her wildly struggling body against his. He held her while Emma fought, trying to get a leg up, attempting to smash their heads together, anything to get free. She accomplished nothing save to tire herself out, Emma red faced and panting, her chest heaving in a painful manner. 

"Emma, I'm sorry." Hook said, and it was made worse because he meant it. 

"Fight it!" Emma cried out, her eyes flashing with desperation. 

"I...I can't..." Hook whispered, his skin looking so pale with the admission. "I just don't have the will anymore..." 

"Damn you!" But she was sagging in his embrace, too tired to truly do anything more. She hadn't had enough sleep, wasn't getting enough air, was hurting too much all over. Emma was almost reaching the point of not caring, the last of her thoughts being devoted to Henry and her parents. Wishing they had enough time, hoping a cursed David and Mary Margaret would listen to and take seriously Henry's warnings. 

Whispering apologies of her own, Emma thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, when the area around them blurred together. She shifted at Hook's voice, hearing him apologize once more, but from a distance. 

"I'm sorry Emma. The orders have changed. I have to bring you to them..." 

She let out a bitter sound at that, thinking Regina probably wanted the satisfaction of killing Emma with her own hands. The dark haired queen would probably spend an insane amount of time gloating, bragging about how she would now be the only mother Henry would ever know. Twisting the knife deeper in Emma, making her sick with the knowledge that her son Henry, might end up stuck in the care of that spiteful, hateful woman forever. 

The idea made her sick, but also angry, Emma standing up straighter in Hook's embrace. Willing herself to be tough, to be ready, arming herself with a sarcastic wit, and her fiercest glare. Making ready to face Regina one last time, to die with her spirit intact. Emma didn't think she stood a chance of surviving, but she would do her best to fill Regina with doubts, with fears and uncertainties about the kind of life she would have with Henry. Because Emma was certain that happily ever after would elude the woman. It had to, because Henry would never be able to love the woman who had killed his mother. She would be a monster in his eyes, and Emma would make her understand that in no uncertain terms. 

Reality shimmered as she thought this, the dizzying effects of Hook's teleportation magic lessening, as the colors around them solidified into shapes. The familiar couch made her gasp, Emma recognizing this place as the apartment she shared with her son and her parents. A place she hadn't expected to see, and Mary Margaret's glad shout wasn't so much music to Emma's ears, as the herald of the chaos that would follow. 

Emma looked into Hook's eyes, seeing the confusion there mirrored her own. Her lips started to part, to ask Hook a question he surely didn't have the answer to. And then sound rushed in, Emma hearing a man, her father shout in a commanding voice. 

"Let her go, Hook!" 

Immediately the arms around her loosened. Emma still stared at Hook, still did noting but stand there. Soft hands snatched at her arm, Emma being dragged from Hook's arms. She stumbled in the direction pulled, trying to turn when a woman pressed against her. Hugging her fiercely, nearly weeping in relief, Mary Margaret actually trembling as she held her daughter. 

Stiff back and full of tension, Emma stared past her mother at Hook. He hadn't taken his eyes off the blonde, not even to acknowledge the approaching man. It wasn't until David was right in front of Hook, that the pirate truly looked at him, and only for a second before the prince was throwing a bone crunching punch. 

Emma cried out when David's fist connected with Hook's face. She swore she saw red flecked spittle fly in the air, thought she felt the gathering of malevolent energies. She prepared herself to see Hook lash back at her father, actually tried to take a step in that direction. But Mary Margaret's hold went from comforting hug to restraining hold, the woman trying to keep her daughter out of what was happening. 

Emma fought her, violently in her attempts to jerk free. Mary Margaret had no trouble holding on. Emma was simply too tired, too sore, too full of aches, to be at full strength. She felt weak, actually swayed as though she might faint, her eyes fluttering rapidly as David punched Hook a second time. 

"Don't!" Emma cried out, but no one understood she was begging BOTH men to not take things any further. 

Hook met her worried gaze, Emma thinking he would at least listen to her. But then David landed a third punch, and Hook snapped. He struck out with his arm, backhanding David across the face. He didn't try to temper his strength, the prince actually being thrown across the room. He landed against a counter in the kitchen, and something clattered to the floor with a loud echo of sound. 

Expecting Hook to go for David, Emma was shocked when the pirate froze, staring transfixed at something on the floor. Not knowing what it could be, not daring to hope for any other result, Emma turned in Mary Margaret's grip. Her gaze went not to her father, who was unsteadily using the counter to help himself up off the floor, but the thing that had made that loud echoing sound. 

It was too big to be a simple kitchen knife, too short to be a sword. It was in fact a dagger, but not just any one. It was the Dark One's dagger, the thing that both controlled him, and could kill him. That David had it wasn't as confusing as Emma might have thought, the woman realized something major had gone down. Something that had allowed the weapon to change hands, to give them the advantage they hadn't had before. Emma almost wanted to cry, so relieved to see the dagger was no longer in the queens' possession, even as she wanted to scream at her parents for risking themselves like that. 

She never got the chance to do either, David and Hook exchanging a look. Tension crackled in that look, a split second decision made. Both of them moved, Hook almost faster than the eye could see, David lunging desperately for the dagger but still too slow. Hook was set to snatch the dagger off of the floor, when out of nowhere a burst of blue energy struck just before his hand. 

With a wild sounding snarl, Hook pulled back his arm, whirling in place to track where that magic had come from. The dagger itself was airborne, David making a grab for it. and missing, It somersaulted slowly, almost as though it was floating instead of falling, and eventually landed in the palm of a feminine hand. 

Silence followed, Emma blinking in stunned surprise. And it was a surprise, Storybrooke's Mother Superior having materialized from nothing to appear before them. Dressed in a nun's habit, the woman looked the picture of severe grace. However the blue tipped wand she held in her right hand, was completely out of place with her holy robes. 

"It is done." She announced with a serene smile. The tension immediately whisked out of Mary Margaret, the woman almost swooning in place, relying on her daughter for support. Emma had no idea what had been done, and looked around the room, noting David still looked like he wanted to attack Hook. 

As for the pirate, he seemed frozen in place, gritting his teeth in annoyance, but otherwise making no moves. His eyes were on the Mother Superior, his gazed riveted by the dagger she still held. 

Shifting in place, Emma drew their attention to her, as she cleared her throat loudly. "Would someone be so kind as to tell me what the fuck is going on!?" Her no nonsense tone was meant to get answers, not cause Mary Margaret to start shaking with a laughter that was half sobbing. 

"It's a long story." Mary Margaret managed to say, and Emma almost laughed and cried too, because she realized they now all had the time to hear the time consuming tale. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

To Be Continued....


	6. Six

Mary Margaret had suggested that they make themselves comfortable. The others could only agree, with one look at Emma and the exhaustion she had tried unsuccessfully to keep hidden. She almost flushed in embarrassment, knowing what a sore sight she must make. With her blonde hair wild and tangled, actually swaying on her feet, with bruises exposed on what skin wasn't covered by the shirt borrowed from Hook. No one was asking why she was practically naked, nor were they asking why certain bruises looked more like bites given in the heat of passion. But Emma knew what they assumed, and it was worse because they were half right. She had had sex with the pirate, had in effect bought them time to do what was needed with her body. They didn't know she had enjoyed herself for the most part, that Emma would do it all over again if the choice was presented. 

Wildly embarrassed, she pulled free of Mary Margaret's arms, before her mother could stop her. It was a mistake, her body rapidly giving in now that she had exhausted the adrenaline she had been running on for the past hour. With a muted cry, her legs started to give out from under her, and not even Emma's determination and strength of will could let her catch herself in time. 

Hook was suddenly there, his arms around her. Righting her fall, holding her steady. Emma knew it was weakness, but she leaned into him anyway. Gratitude flushing through her, Emma pressing her back into his front. For one frozen second, they had that moment, no danger or dire desperate circumstance between them. 

And then David was there, the ever over protective father. Not that Emma had much experience with the man in this way. And certainly she had never had a man with her that made her father feel the need to glare at and threaten. Emma wasn't sure she liked this side of him, and she certainly didn't like the fact that Mary Margaret was once again pulling her from Hook's arms. 

"Keep your hand off of my daughter." David spoke in a low, threathening voice, his hands curling momentarily into fists. 

Emma gave a side long glance at Hook, expecting the pirate to smirk and say something provocative. Something that would make the situation worse, lewd comments that weren't all fanciful insinuations drawing David into another brawl. But Hook surprised her, merely giving David a dark glower of his own, jaw clenching noticeably as he took a step back. 

"He was just...." 

"I know what he was just trying to do." David interrupted Emma, never taking his eyes off of the pirate. Emma frowned, wanting to say something more, not knowing how to diffuse the situation, and feeling oddly compelled to defend the pirate. 

Her mouth opened and closed several times, Emma wanting to say they were wrong about Hook. But was it the truth, or just her mixed up feelings getting in the way? Was Emma already forgetting the events of the day, and a good portion of it's night, had all been sent into motion because of Hook's desires? Because he had sought the dagger, and had used it to kill Gold, and she didn't even know why! Had he really just been power hungry like they all had first assumed, or was there something more to it then that? 

Emma shifted to turn and look at Hook, her eyes troubled. He looked at her, and it wasn't the Dark One that looked back, nor was it the man she had spent hours having sex with. It wasn't even the agonizing Hook, the pirate simply looking cold. As if he was locking down his thoughts and feelings, hiding his true self behind a wall. 

This Hook was a stranger, and this too was their reality. Because they hadn't been friends before this had all started, had actually used and manipulated the hell out of each other while in the fairy tale world. With a thumping of her disappointed heart, Emma realized they didn't know nearly enough about each other, had only that wild passion between them. Without the threat of their life and death circumstances, it suddenly seemed insane to think she could have wanted the chance for more. 

Emma had thought she hadn't been confusing lust and love, but now she wasn't so sure. Now Emma was realizing she had been so addled brain by all that had been happening, so mesmerized by the dark seductive beauty that was a cursed Hook, that she had been thoroughly lost in a fantasy that couldn't be real. Because here in her parent's apartment, with David glowering, Hook distant, and Mary Margaret holding her, reality was hitting her. She was a mother for God's sake. She had commitments and responsibilities, a life of her own. She couldn't, shouldn't be falling for a pirate, wanting something more from him than what they had already shared. 

Her feelings didn't give a damn about the couldn't and shouldn't, about the reality of just how unsuitable a partner Hook would make. Her feelings just cared that she had come alive in his arms, that Emma had finally let down some of her walls, to actually feel something primal and wild. 

It was extremely tempting, wanting to feel that way again. And if he had allowed just one uncertain emotion to leak into his expression, Emma would have thrown caution to the wind, and gone for him. But he didn't, so she didn't, allowing Mary Margaret to half carry her over to the couch. 

Hiding her upset hopefully better than her exhaustion, Emma sank down into the cushions. A blanket was brought forth, Emma using it to cover her legs and half of her waist. She was simply too tired to consider a shower, and to change into her own clothing. Emma had a feeling it would be days before she even tried to get up from this comfortable piece of furniture, her body ready with a petition of aches and pains to make her stay right where she was. 

Mary Margaret joined her on the couch. David sort of perched on the arm rest, keeping a hand near Emma's shoulder, but his eyes were still set on Hook. The Mother Superior got to work in the kitchen, brewing Emma a cup of tea, which the blonde woman accepted with a grateful smile. 

"Thanks." Emma said, watching as the Mother Superior took the seat opposite the couch. She seemed unconcerned of putting her back to the Dark One, smiling soothingly at Emma. 

"There's a pinch of magic in that tea." She said, holding up a hand to stave off Emma's alarmed protests. "Just a bit of healing herbs, that will work wonders to soothe and mend your injuries." 

Again that embarrassed warmth flooded her cheeks, Emma taking a quick sip of the tea to avoid commenting. She needed the healing, but Emma didn't like that everyone knew, that everyone was making assumptions about the type of injuries she might have. 

There was a few minutes of silence in which Emma realized Hook wasn't joining them in the sitting area. He stood on the fringe, a clear outsider looking in. David probably would have attacked him if Hook had tried to come near, his dislike apparent, the man in no way ready to welcome the pirate as part of their group. 

It was just another reason why Hook wouldn't fit in her life. Her parents didn't approve, David could barely control himself to pretend to be civil. Emma inwardly sighed, but out loud her voice was steady, the woman asking them again to tell the story of what had happened. 

What followed was an adventure, Mary Margaret talking about how relieved she had been when David had woken up after Hook had sent him flying into a tree. Emma's father had been beyond livid when he had learned Emma had basically sacrificed herself to give Mary Margaret the chance to get away. And he hadn't even known the nature of the distraction his daughter had tempted Hook with! 

Emma realized with shock that David had taken one look at his daughter's disheveled, near naked appearance, and had assumed the worst. Even without Mary Margaret telling him the explicit details of what she had seen Emma do, David had put together a nightmare of a situation. It was no wonder David hadn't been able to control himself, why he had attacked Hook, why he kept on bristling with anger even now. Worst yet, neither Emma nor Hook had explained what really had happened, and unless the pirate chose now to break his silence, David was going to continue to be kept in the dark. For there was no way Emma could talk about what had happened, not to her own father, and not with Hook standing there! 

She might have been willing to tell Mary Margaret. She might yet still tell her mother at least some of what had happened. Some but not all, as some things were best kept private. That included her feelings, her wicked wishes, and unrealistic longings. 

"It took all the magic dust in the mines, along with nearly all my fairies to mount a working offensive against the evil queens." The Mother Superior was saying, and Emma realized she had zoned out of part of the story. 

"But how did you know you were needed?" Emma asked, puzzled and hoping it wasn't something that had already been covered. 

"Your mother has friends in high places." David murmured in answer, which only succeeded in confusing Emma more. 

Mary Margaret actually chuckled at her daughter's confused look. "Disney didn't get all the details wrong." 

"And Cora couldn't shoot down every bird that took flight in the sky." added the Mother Superior. 

Emma blinked repeatedly. "Are you saying you can talk to birds?" 

"Is that any harder to believe then the magic you've already seen?" Mary Margaret asked with a gentle smile. 

"When you put it like that, no...." Emma admitted slowly. So her mother could talk to birds, and possibly furry small creatures. She'd really have to look at Henry's book, study up on the fairy tales that were actually part of her birth world's history. 

"It was a relief when we finally got the dagger from Cora." Mary Margaret said, to fill the silence that had formed. "At once we put an end to the command she had given to the Dark One, but it had taken time to catch and subdue the queens." 

"How much time?" Emma demanded. 

"No more than two hours." The Mother Superior said. "It took time to enchant the collars that would strip the evil queens of all their magic." 

"It was even harder to get close enough to put those collars on them!" David added, and Mary Margaret actually groaned at the memory. 

Emma glanced at her mother. "Did they hurt you?" 

"We're fine." Her mother assured her. "It was nothing the Blue Fairy's magic couldn't heal." 

Wondering how much of the Mother Superior's tea her parents had had to drink, Emma looked up at her father. "Where are Cora and Regina now?" 

"If they're smart, they'll have crossed the boundary." 

"The boundary!?" Emma exclaimed. 

"They were given a choice. To stay in Storybrooke without their magic, and face the wrath of the townspeople...or to risk making a life in the outside lands, without memory of who they really are." 

Emma couldn't help the shiver that went through her, both choices seeming terrible. How much worse would it seem to Cora and Regina, women who had prided themselves on their magic and power, their ability to bully and terrorize a whole kingdom of people. People who might be quick to repay the favor, now that the strong had become weak. 

"And what will you do with that?" Emma asked, having finished her tea. The Mother Superior looked down at the dagger, actually caressed fingernails over the name carved into the blade. Hook immediately tensed, as though he could feel that touch on his body, which turned Emma's gaze troubled. 

"I think it should be up to you." The Mother Superior announced, rising from her seat to walk towards Emma. 

"Me?" Emma squeaked out in surprise. This she hadn't been expecting, but it was welcome all the same. "Why though?" The question came out wary, Emma not yet reaching for the dagger that the Mother Superior was holding out to her. 

"You did so much." 

"We all did." Emma protested. "Every one had a role to play, a part in defeating Regina and Cora." 

"True, but you are the Savior. And you sacrificed so much this day." The Mother Superior's reminder was gentle, but it brought the embarrassed heat flooding through her. Emma nearly mumbled something about it not being much of a sacrifice, but a literal biting of her tongue kept her from making such a shameful admission. 

"Once again you helped save us." Mary Margaret said, and she shone with how proud she was of her daughter. 

"This town would have been lost, ruined under the rule of two evil queens." The Mother Superior added. "Take the dagger, it is yours." 

Aware of Hook, his dark gaze not on her, but on the dagger, Emma hesitated. "Can...can you give us a moment?" 

"A moment..." Mary Margaret frowned, but David was already shaking his head no. 

"That is not a good idea." 

In exasperation, Emma grabbed at the dagger the Mother Superior held out to her. "I'll be fine!" She snapped, and practically waved the dagger in her agitation. "With this at my command, he won't be able to hurt me...." 

"There are more ways to hurt than just physical..." Mary Margaret murmured. 

"I know what I am doing." Emma insisted, and gave her mother a pleading look. "Just let me...look, just five, no ten minutes. That's all I ask." 

It was clear they didn't want to, but eventually, under Emma's relentless insistence, Mary Margaret guided a still protesting David out of the apartment. The Mother Superior followed behind them, and then Emma was alone with the pirate. 

"So what ARE you doing?" Hook asked, and Emma flushed in response. It figured he'd be the reason behind the cause of her blushing this night. Hook AND the things they had done, together and to one another. Things her parents and the Mother Superior suspected, things they actually felt bad because of. 

"Time is a wasting." Hook added when Emma did nothing but fidget in place, her fingers playing with blade in nervous agitation. A sharp hiss issued out of Hook, when she caressed fingers over the inscription in the metal. Emma looked down, and saw his name, his REAL name, engraved there. 

"Killian Jones." She said out loud, and felt the magic take hold. Hook seemed to freeze, and for one second the stranger was gone, a frantic, hurt man gazing out in his place. 

"Emma, don't." A desperate plea, and one Emma ALMOST listened too. But the power was too much, her need too great. Emma HAD to know, and she realized using the dagger was probably the only way she'd ever get the truth out of Hook. 

"Tell me why." She said at last, her voice soft but commanding. "Why you did what you did. Why you went after Gold and his power." 

"It was NEVER about his power!" Hook all but snarled. "I just wanted him dead!" 

"But...but why?" She asked, doing her best not to flinch in place in response to the way Hook had shouted at her. 

"Why do you think?" He spoke in terse tones. "For revenge." 

"Revenge?" echoed Emma, and her mind started to take dark turns, wondering at what Gold could have possibly done to make Hook embrace a killing vendetta. 

"Her name was Mila." Hook's tone softened slightly with the name issued. "She was the love of my life." 

Emma's lips had parted in surprise, Hook having said the last thing she had been expecting. Her shock showed, Hook giving her a bitter look. "Is it that surprising, that I could have been in love once?" 

Again she turned red, Emma shaking her head no. "What....what happened to her?" She asked, after a few seconds of tense silence. 

"Rumplestiltskin killed her." And from there, the whole story came tumbling out, Emma learning about the woman that Hook had loved. The MARRIED woman that he had run off with, and about the coward who had risen to power, and then murdered his cheating wife in a fit of insane jealousy. 

Hook kept the tragic past short and to the point, only elaborating when Emma asked him too. She didn't ask nearly enough, frankly too shocked and horrified by what she did hear. She was given a brief history on Hook's quest to find something, anything that could ruin, even destroy Rumplestiltskin. She learned Hook was a lot older than he looked, having spent several hundred years in Neverland. She found out he had returned to the Enchanted Kingdoms just in time for Regina to cast the curse, Hook quickly allying himself with Cora, all in the hope that the queen of hearts would one day make good on her promise to bring him to the land that Rumplestiltskin had fled too. 

But the single most important, most relieving thing she was told, was that Hook had gone after the dagger without knowing the full repercussions of it's use. That he had been tricked by Regina and Cora, the two allowing him to read a map that would lead to the dagger. They then had pretended not to need him, had gone so far as to knock him out when he had tried to insist on being part of their scheme. They had watched and waited, letting him find and dig up the dagger, and ultimately they had kept Emma and her parents at bay long enough for Hook to stab the cursed blade into Rumplestiltskin's heart. 

Hook hadn't gone after Rumplestiltskin because he was greedy for power. It was simply a revenge that had gone horribly wrong, Hook paying a steep price for his hate. Emma couldn't entirely fault him for it, understanding that revenge was a negative but powerful motivating force. And love lost bloody hurt, no matter the circumstances that had taken it from someone. 

The painful truth, as awful as it was, became the deciding factor in what Emma would next do. She glanced down at the blade, at his name inscribed there, then bid Hook to approach her. His stiff, awkward way of moving spoke strongly that he was resenting the order, Hook angry that he had been forced to share such a private, personal pain. He loomed over her, his eyes absolutely furious, not flinching as Emma reached up to cup his face, the dagger laying across her lap. 

For one moment, she just touched him, staring into his eyes. Now was not the time to speak of uncertain feelings, to wonder if fantasies could be made real. He was angry, and she was tired, and neither could afford to build the other's hopes up. And still Emma had to remind herself of what could not be, to tell herself not to hope that they could have anything more than a quick fling. Lust wasn't love, and Emma was too scared of being burned by the attempt to hope for, to try for more. 

Telling herself she would get over this hurtful infatuation, that it had been nothing more than mutual insanity, her voice still broke when she talked. "Take the dagger, Hook." Emma urged. "Take it and be free." 

His look of clear surprise was a bitter reward, reminding Emma that Hook didn't know her any better than she him. Emma watched him first hesitate, then snatch at the dagger, as though he feared she would change her mind in the seconds gone by. He stared at the blade, actually closed his fingers around it, then shimmered. Emma blinked her eyes, and found Hook had vanished, and she wasn't entirely surprised that he hadn't bothered with goodbyes or thank yous. 

Sighing, she fell back against the couch cushions. The time she had asked for was almost up, and Emma wasn't looking forward to her parent's return. To David's predictable anger over what she had done over the fact she had given up the dagger and set Hook free. But she would endure it, for even a father's anger was a gift to marvel at, to a woman who had almost died this night. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The End of the first story in the series..... 

This was a story I started and finished back in July of 2013. Almost two years later, and I still haven't gotten the chance to actually start the sequel Seducing Darkness. But that is because I have been distracted by The Shattered Dream of Innocence and Beyond Here Lies Darkness. I keep telling myself I have to finish one of those two, before I can start Seducing Darkness. But who knows...I may end up starting it before either one of those other stories are finished!

This was also my first Emma Hook story...

Thanks for reading!

Michelle a.k.a. Lotornomiko


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